Storm's Company
by jupitermonkey4
Summary: Separated from her family at a young age, Astrid Hofferson must survive a life on the mainland with a savage culture and a dying sense of honor. And when the world kills those who are weak and betrays those with duty, only a cutthroat survives. And this cutthroat enjoys the clink of coin.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Calm**

Waves lapped gently at the shores of a small island, completely unremarkable from the countless others in the Archipelago. The typically grey and stormy sky above was broken up by the odd ray of sunshine peaking through, offering a bit of stray warmth to those who lived below it. The island held very little in the way of natural resources or stunning beauty, but simply had a value in the sense that it was isolated.

Far from the crowded village Berk but just close enough for a small trip for peace and quiet. And that was exactly what Brunhilda had in mind when she herded her family onto their small boat: a peaceful day of relaxation, naps and hopefully a gaggle of exhausted children she could easily put to bed at the end of the day.

Unfortunately, her husband made all those plans essentially non-existent as he jumped headfirst into the water as soon as they got within swimming distance of the island.

"Last one to the shore smells like Mildews' cabbages!" he laughed uproariously as he cut through the water, leaving her with a crew of stunned children.

This garnered varied reactions from the group ranging from excitement to indignation and finally ending with exasperation as Brunhilda watched six of her seven children leap overboard after their father, barely catching her only daughter from plunging into the dark waters.

"B-but momma!" cried the little girl, barely even breaching the age of three as she met the eyes of Brunhilda, tears already building up behind those blue fierce eyes "If I don't beat them, then I'LL be a smelly cabbage!"

"Astrid Hofferson," began Brunhilda sternly, "I won't take any belly aching from my own daughter, much less a wee warrior such as yourself."

This last comment got Astrid to stop wriggling in her mothers grip, but she did so with a pout. Feeling a pang of guilt, Brunhilda continued with a small smirk. "They're not as smart as us, see."

Astrid looked up at her, surly features replaced with curiousity.

"They'll all get a cold from that fierce water," Brunhilda explained, "And while their picking seaweed and realizing they smell of fish? We'll be nice and dry." This earned a smile from the now consoled toddler, prompting Brunhilda to add "And how about when we land, I'll get off last and be the smelly cabbage?"

She grinned down at the now giggling Astrid, who nodded in understanding and wiped away her tears as the ship gently glided towards the shore, watching the race in earnest until her eldest son jumped victoriously on the beach, taunting a soggy father as he slowly emerged from the water with a pout on his lips.

* * *

Several hours had passed since Brunhilda sat herself down on a grassy hill that overlooked the beach, and the small streaks of sunlight had long since disappeared. All around her were the strewn remains of a Hofferson sized lunch, though that any remained at all was a testament to the absolutely savage battle her younger tots had gotten into over it. Looking down to the family in question, Brunhilda couldn't help but glow when she saw them in their natural habitats. Her husband, Achtun, was wrestling her two eldest sons Foot and Inch, and proceeding very methodically as he swung one boy into another and sent them both crashing to the ground.

The two boys were stockier than anyone else in their group, and were starting to hit another wave of growth spurts. It was only a matter of months until they started Dragon Training. Soon, they would be warriors in their own right, maybe even as large and powerful as Achtun.

Speaking of which, that rapscallion of a man had lifted Inch bodily in the air was using him as a makeshift mace. As both boys squawked in alarm, the man cackled madly with mirth. He had always been a hard fighter and even harder taskmaster with his children, but when he cut loose Achtun got caught in the wind. There were still dents in the ceiling of the Great Hall from their wedding after all.

She found her gaze being slowly turned away from the spar to her twins, Arlf and Aftur. The duo were only ten years old, but she was fairly certain they were madder than march hares. The twins had developed some weird, sadistic game and roped the two other boys Hrolf and Bo into it. Taking the resin from one of the few trees on the island, the boys had coated several sticks in thick wads of it and were attempting to get it stuck in each others hair in order to see who could get the most hair.

And while it didn't make sense to Brunhilda, things like these had simply just become apart of the everyday life in a household where there were only two ladies in the hall.

Speaking of ladies, Brunhilda's eyes finally turned to Astrid, far from the pack as she slowly waded through the shallows of the waters on a hunt for seashells, eyes so full of wonder and glee that she looked just as likely to pick up every shell in the ocean rather than leave one behind that may have caught her eyes.

Astrid had always been near and dear to the hearts of the Hoffersons. Not simply because of her age and gender, but of her fierce attitude and loving nature that had already emerged despite her youth.

At one point, Hrolf thought it was good idea to pick on the little girl by pulling the toddlers hair. Instead of a shriek he expected and a laugh from his friends, all the foolish boy got was a broken finger as her hands shot forward and crushed his index in a steel-like grip.

After that, not many would be willing to pick on the little girl, and Hrolf was far more pleasant boy towards women.

Astrid had such a brilliant fire in her, so it had surprised Brunhilda when she found a close friend in the son of Stoick the Vast, a timid shrimp of a boy by the name of Hiccup. The two had been nearly inseparable since both could start walking, and got along famously. There had been enough cursory glances between Achtun and Stoick that tipped her off that a possible match was in the works, but Brunhilda managed to head off her husbands ideas and give him a good thrashing before he could sell off their daughter. He meant well, no doubt, but her oaf of a husband wasn't sparing a thought to what Astrid herself may have to say abut the arrangement ten years from now, Odin bless his heart.

Brunhilda's musings were broken as Achtun approached her from the shoreline, leaving his two opponents to run off towards the boat. .

"I don't like the look of those clouds, id say it's high-time we made for home." He grunted, earning a raised eyebrow from his wife as she snorted and said "Dear, it's always about to rain. It's called the Meridian of Misery for a reason."

This earned a short chuckle from her husband before a dour look returned to his bearded face. "Even so, there's no cover out here and if we leave now we should be able to beat the storm."

Foot clambered aboard the boat as Inch ran over to the cluster of boys, shoved Bo into the sand and told the rest of the boys to get moving. Soon, an entire column of boys was sprinting to the boat, with Astrid lagging behind and giggling as she ran.

Sighing, Brunhilda stood and dusted herself off and wrapped her arm around her husbands as they began to move towards the swiftly prepped boat and the screaming boys who clambered to ready it.

Though Achtun's words still echoed in her mind, Brunhilda looked up to the sky and saw only a few clouds that were darker than normal, and figured her husband was just being overly cautious. She indulged him, because who didn't want a cautious husband?

Still, it was worrisome. With one last glance at the sky, Brunhilda silently prayed Thor would keep her family whole.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Crashing Waves, Snuffing Sparks.**

Water had never scared Brunhilda.

The ocean was a Viking's true home after all, and the salty spray that hit her face was part and parcel of that relationship. Though, as another wave slammed into the side of their small ship, it seemed there was a bitter betrayal of her trust in the waters.

The grey shifted to an ominous black overhead as soon as the Hofferson's set sail. The once calm waves and guiding breeze had taken a vicious turn as they ripped at the small vessel. The force of the waves splintered the railings of the ship as the waters churned and threw the ship from side to side.

Brunhilda desperately clung to the mast as she worked to secure the sails before they were torn away in the squall. Beside her, Foot was loudly reciting the many rhymes taught to him by Achtun as he struggled to aid in her seemingly pointless battle. Achtun himself stood at the rudder with Inch, bellowing at the top of his lungs as he tried to guide the ship through the depths that seemed eager for a new set of trophies.

The small hold under the main deck had been smashed in, the latch's old hinges shattering after a clumsy knee had crashed into it. It flapped uselessly against the bucking of the ship, bent inwards and crumbling apart with every jolt. Inside, the four youngest boys desperately bailed out as much water as possible before the next wave came crashing down. Astrid was right in Brunhilda's line of sight through the broken hatch. The small girl was clawing desperately at the wall she had back up against, tears running down her face. A fresh scream burst forth from the Astrid's lips at the sound of a Thor's renewed rage.

Feeling tears building up in her own eyes, Brunhilda tore her eyes away to focus on the knots in front of her. In all her time at sea, whether she was leading expeditions for the Dragons Nest or raiding the shores of the so-called "Roman Empire",she had never seen a storm as vicious as this. The side that Brunhilda wouldn't allow herself to indulge could tell that between the ever growing force behind each wave and the increasing struggle of her valiant crew that it was only a matter of time before the vessel capsized.

Biting her lip, Brunhilda managed to finish off the last knot on her side of the sail and began moving towards Foot in order to aid him—just as a particularly large wave seemed to rise out of the churning waves to slam towards them. Seeing Foot's look of terror at the wall of water racing towards them, the weathered mother gave him a reassuring glance and yelled over the deafening clamour, "Don't you go worrying about that! Your father will take care of it, just you watch!"

Seeing that her son was emboldened once again by the words, she felt a surge of warmth despite herself. She couldn't help but feel moved that her children has so much confidence in Achtun that they believed her husband could tame tame the oceans themselves.

But just as Achtun turned the small vessel to absorb the brunt of the wave, a massive object suddenly lunged out of the watery wall and slammed into the bow of the vessel, sending the whole crew careening. Brunhilda barely registered the ball of blonde and blue as it flew past her head, lunging her hand out to catch it on reflex alone. Sobbing in her arms, Astrid raised a shaky finger back towards the hold and the bow, drawing Brunhilda's eyes to the terrifying sea-green complexion of a Scauldron's ridged head before it dove back under the water.

Wasting no time, Brunhilda placed Astrid onto the deck of the ship and tied her to the mast as an anchor. Brunhilda was reaching for one of the shields still attached to the shattered railing even as Inch ran from the rudder to hand her a bent fishing pike before dashing back to aid his father. Hefting a heavy oaken shield marked with the Hofferson sigil and wielding her makeshift weapon, Brunhilda turned to face the wave that now carried an unmistakable sliver of poisonous green inside of it.

Behind her, she heard a whisper that sounded like a shout in her mind that cried, "Mamma, don't leave me!" Not needing to turn and see its owner, Brunhilda called back and said, "I'd have to be as good as dead to be taken away from my babies!" before twirling her pike with a flourish as the wave drew closer and closer.

When the wave was upon them, it seemed a sense of calm settled on her for a moment, as if Thor was giving her one final clear breath. The moment was shattered as the Scauldron burst from the wave seconds before it connected with the boat, leaping over the bow towards Brunhilda with its mouth ready to send forth a stream of boiling agony. Seeing the threat, Brunhilda leapt backwards just in time to dodge the burst of boiling water and braced herself for the oncoming charge of the green dragon.

Continuing its charge, the Scauldron launched itself at the Viking warrior. Instead of the easy kill it expected, its prey hooked her weapon into the mast nearby and drag itself out of the way of its charge, sending the beast headfirst through the remains of the railing. This fast maneuver earned Brunhilda some minor cuts on her prey and a very upset Scauldron dangling off the side of the vessel as it tried to regain its footing.

Pressing her new found advantage, the warrior leapt onto the scaled hide of the beast and made to jab her pike into its wing. Unfortunately, the Scauldron managed to find its footing and lurched backwards. Brunhilda grunted as the blow went wide and stabbed into a fleshy yet unimportant area around its joint as she crashed to the ground.

Struggling to stand, Brunhilda's eyes darted towards the beast's mouth as it opened wide, the heavy gurgling from its gullet letting her know it was prepared to cook the skin off the matriarch. It righted itself on the deck and turned to face its foe, hatred gleaming in its soulless eyes. Refusing to go out like a sheep, Brunhilda rose to her feet and aimed her pike at the creature's maw, preparing to destroy the beast even if it would kill her. She could definitely hear Achtun and the boys screaming at her from what seemed like a thousand leagues away, but years of motherly living had blessed her with the ability to block out such noises. With a growl to match the dragon's own, Brunhilda lunged forwards, rolling underneath the hot streams of seawater that sought her death.

Abandoning rule number one of Dragon Training that ol' Baggybum had taught her all those years ago, Brunhilda launched her shield at the dragon's head. The unexpected move startled the dragon just as much as the shield breaking its front teeth did. Before the dragon could recover, Brunhilda dove under the mouth of the beast and buried the pike's hook into its leg. With a heave, she dragged its own limbs out from under it. Rolling out from underneath the tumbling reptile, Brunhilda snapped the handle off of the now pinned pike and sent its splintered edge into the wing of the beast, pinning it to the deck.

She looked to search for a new weapon but instead her eyes fell on Astrid, the girl watching with glowing admiration in her eyes at the sight of her awe-inspiring mother in action. But the girl's fascination wasn't what caught Brunhilda's eye—it was the deep-red pack-mate of the Scauldron rising over the edge of the ship behind her.

Always the mediator and peacemaker of Berk, Brunhilda exerted great control over her emotions, never shouting or crying, not even to her husband bar once or twice. She was a pillar of stability in the lives of everyone who knew her. She was a rock. A mountain.

And the mountain had just cracked open and poured hot magma down onto the world.

With a blood-curdling scream, Brunhilda lost control of her movements and vision. Only instinct controlled her mind as the overwhelming urge to protect her young overrode every ounce of self-control that had been cultivated over the years.

Leaping away from the wounded Green Scauldron, the now berserk matriarch lunged towards the new beast, tearing off the ropes that now dangled uselessly from the sail as her only weapon. A stream of water hit the left side of her face, but Brunhilda barely even registered the screaming pain as she slammed bodily into the neck of Red Scauldron. She grappled with the spindly extension as its owner desperately swung its head back and forth in an attempt to dislodge her. Not to be deterred, Brunhilda dug her fingers into the soft neck of her opponent so hard it drew blood from her fingers as well.

The ropes dangled from her mouth as she righted herself in the Scauldron's blind spot. Swinging herself on top of the beast, the berserk woman wrapped her legs around the monster's throat and quickly wrapped its neck in the thick sailing coil of rope, using every knot that felt natural as she tightened her vice into a makeshift noose around the dragon's throat.

Flailing in desperation, the Red Scauldron managed one last pitiful cry for help before its entire oxygen supply was cut off. This last cry was all it took for the Green Scauldron to rouse from its pitiful state and regain its sense of pride as a warrior. With a roar it tore its pinned wing free swept it into Inch and Foot as they approached it with seaxes to finish it off.

Rallying its last vestiges of strength, the beast's eyes locked on the weakest prey. It snarled at the poor little girl still tied to the mast as she screamed in horror. Seeing the dragon prepare to strike, the toddler barely had time to duck before its maw sunk into the wood where her head had been resting seconds before, tearing through it as if it were thin air alongside the ropes that had once kept her secured.

Tumbling across the ship, the young girl didn't even see the green tail as it flew into her head, knocking her out completely.

A bellow of fury sounded over the crashing waves, and the green dragon turned to see its pack-mate crash its head into the deck of the deck, wings flapping uselessly as it struggled to escape from the mighty hands of Achtun pinning it down, the rudder now forgotten in face of the immediate threat.

Leaping from her perch on the Scauldron's neck, Brunhilda charged at the wounded Scauldron with a wordless screech. Tearing a chunk of wood from the railing as she ran, she let out a wordless yell as she descended on the beast. Its eyes narrowed at the callous charge and flicked its tail out, blindsiding her.

Smacking her head against the stump of the mast, the veteran warrior slumped against her resting place with a grunt, already feeling her vision scattering as she fell into oblivion.

* * *

Time drifted into nothingness for Brunhilda. She felt that years or minutes would pass without consequence. The only thoughts that could cross her mind were _'Is this truly all that there is to Valhalla?'_ with more than a little disappointment.

Her eyes scanned the darkness for any solution or clue as to how she had come to be where she was, only accompanied by the soft sound of water lapping on a shore. But where was the water? The last thing she could remember was the beach, though they hadn't been able to stay there very long before the storm hit.

 _The storm._

* * *

Brunhilda sat up with a start, head ringing and vision blurry as the soft lapping of water changed violently into a torrent of rain and bloody screams. Bo had run from the hold and began shaking his mother awake as the remaining boys drew whatever weapons they could wield and charged into the hopeless battle against the beast whilst Inch and Foot finished off the deep red pack-mate.

' _Their first dragon kill and I can't even give them a smile'_ thought Brunhilda grimly before she grasped exactly what was causing the mad rush of children into battle.

Astrid clung fearfully to the carved dragon head of a prow as a very real one stood with its back to her snarling at the grizzled man approaching it with what few teeth remained. Achtun charged with a mighty war-hammer alongside a Hofferson shield in the other. Still, something seemed entirely out of place in the battle that raged over the fiercest storm of the century.

Out of the corner of her still adjusting eyes, Brunhilda thought something flickered into her vision.

Taking her active eyesight as a sign of actual consciousness, Bo rushed forward to help steady his mother. "Stay still ma," he cried "I think you've got a big ol' crack in your head!"

Struggling to maintain her sight, Brunhilda could only point in mounting horror as the shapes in the waves flickered again. Following her finger, Bo turned to see the churning ocean and its rolling waves still careening towards them. Confused, he looked back to his mother as she grabbed him by the hem of his tunic and shouted with newfound vigour.

"The pod boy! The rest of the pod!" she said before her eyes flickered closed once again.

Before Bo could even open his mouth to respond, two shapes of deep blue and pale yellow burst out from the ocean and circled the deck of the vessel, spraying streams of boiling water to send the remaining fighters scurrying to dodge them. Now free, the bleeding sea-green Scauldron slowly backed to the edge of the of the vessel and shot one last parting stream at the family before diving into the water, followed closely by its remaining pack mates.

Stunned only momentarily by the sudden retreat of the Scauldron pod, the Hofferson's sprung into action to regain control of the ship through the still raging storm. Though, with no mast and hardly anything to anchor themselves to, the family was mostly just looking for something to hold onto rather than control the badly damaged ship.

Bo was in the process of trying to wrap Brunhilda's eyes when she regained consciousness once again, this time with a much sharper field of vision. Eyes narrowed and blood still pumping in her ears, Brunhilda tore the gauze off and rose shakily to her feet.

Another mighty wave slammed over the edge of the boat, drenching the already soaked family and sending Bo sprawling. Brunhilda, on the other hand, grabbed a firm hold on to what remained of the mast. It cut deep into her hand as she held herself upright against the crashing tide.

With the immediate danger gone, the matriarch found her senses return and blood rage subside. Instead, it was replaced with the urge to see her children safe and warm in bed.

As the rest of the family recovered and rushed to secure what parts of the ship they could, Brunhilda staggered towards the bow of the ship. As Astrid emerged from a pile of broken barrels to peek over the edge, Brunhilda felt a smile creep up on her face when it was clear the gal was seemingly unfazed by whack across the head. The soft spot she held for her children were hardly a secret, but Odin knows what kind of jokes Spitelout would've made if he saw the battle-forged object of his childhood affections turn to pudding at the sight of her own children.

And yet, despite this warmth, Brunhilda couldn't help but feel the alert tingle at the back of her neck refuse to subside. Rather than push it aside, Brunhilda used the senses she had honed over her many battles to find any other possible danger, though the waves now grew calmer and less likely to annihilate their poor vessel.

As the final steps closed between Brunhilda and her daughter, Astrid threw herself away from the edge of the ship with a terrified screech as the ship bucked in a seemingly random fashion.

With no time to think, the mother of many threw herself forwards and caught the little girl in a tumble before the telltale body of an Alpha Scauldron crashed through the ship. A Titan-breed, the Scauldron's normally thin neck was completely plated in thick blue and grey scales, reaching down across its massive body and wingspan. Its eyes were composed of two sets—two eyes in the front and one on each side of its head. All four narrowed in hatred as its head raced towards them, maw open wide to envelop the foe that had maimed and killed those of its pack.

But before it could devour them, a wave following the rush of the Alpha slammed over the edges of the ship, scattering the duo and sent the splintered pile of barrels and crates into the rest of the family as they rushed to save the duo. Brunhilda could only watch as the Alpha desperately tried to kill its prey, accidentally dragging the long spines of its wing across Astrid's face as she tumbled. Blood flew from Astrid's head as she was launched into the water, her family helpless save to watch. Brunhilda only had a second to look back at her family, proud and fierce against a demon.

And then she jumped.

Brunhilda was not afraid of the water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Sweet Embrace**

Though the storm raged all around, the calmness of the waters had to have been the work of Loki, swirling gently and trying to envelope the two figures that sunk slowly below its grey tides. Brunhilda pushed through the most deadly waters in the world with only one purpose in mind.

Her eyes never left the slowly descending mop of blonde hair as it sunk deeper and deeper. No beast had the courage to stand in her way as she wrapped her hand around the girls waist.

Pulling her into a vice grip, Brunhilda kicked with all her might to breach the treacherous waters. Her lungs burned and her eyes blurred as she frantically swam to the surface, all while desperately thinking of how her daughter was doing, and if her small lungs had already given in to the blank grip of death.

There was no light to be had, no inclination that she was getting closer to salvation other than the brief flashes that came from the lightning far above their plight as though Thor himself was trying to guide her.

' _I will not die this day, Valhalla has no room for me yet'_ she thought _'no_ _t_ _while my daughter_ _ain't_ _safe in bed._

The tides changed, as though enraged by her newfound defiance of their cold embrace. The once gentle currents began to pull and push her back below, impeding her process by trying to spinning and disorienting her. Yet, as she tumbled blindly she could still feel the pressure on her ears begin to lessen, signalling that she was close to the surface.

Her air was barely holding out, and soon her strength became weak as her adrenaline fuelled reserves ran dry. Praying to the gods and clinging to her only daughter, Brunhilda began to paddle frantically towards the flashes of light that seemed to flicker faster and brighter on the edges of her vision.

Just when she could feel her breath failing her, Brunhilda heard the crack of thunder and broke through the water. She hauled Astrid nearly out of the water as the two started coughing, Brunhilda desperately trying to keep them both afloat.

The fierce warrior looked around the rolling waves with desperate eyes, looking for something to put her child on at the very least. Nothing was apparent at first, but soon the dark, waterlogged brown of various debris was spotted on the crest of a low wave, being carried towards her.

Their position in the water allowed them to simply ride the wave up to the debris, where Brunhilda laid a coughing and unconscious Astrid on the board while she clung to it with all her might. The faint flashes of light above briefly illuminated her daughter, showing her the bright red gash that weekly pumped blood from the top of her eyebrow, across her nose and down towards the opposite end of her face.

Fear gripped the mother, who couldn't help but remember the plucky three year old telling how she wanted scars just like her momma only a week ago.

Tears welled in the exhausted woman as the clouds begun to break, the rolling black hatred beginning to fade into the standard grey of the Archipelago. The waves the duo rode became less and less frequent, and soon they found themselves in the middle of a calm sea, as though the world ending storm had never occurred at all.

The proud, fierce, and indomitable pillar of viking spirit crumbled into sobbing tears as her daughters hand limply trailed in the water next to the debris, who's timely presence and abundance could only have meant one thing in such a storm. The matriarch didn't have just one child, but a whole boatload, and her beloved husband Achtun.

The last she saw, the seven of them were facing down a true demon of the sea, one who was king to all those that saw it pass. Boys as young as eight had stoof behind their father filled with both terror and determination, hefting makeshift weapons and daggers against a monster that could wipe out whole boats filled to the brim with trained veterans.

They had fought, and it was clear that they had lost, as the sea water and tear-soaked board indicated. The only ship in the area had been theirs, and this much debris could only mean their small vessel had been completely annihilated.

And so, for more times today than she had in her life, Brunhilda felt truly and completely without hope. She grieved, and soon drifted to rest alongside her daughter, with her fingers forming holes in the soft wood from the strength she put into her desperate grasp, completely unwilling to let her little girl become a Valkyrie before she could even heft her first axe.

* * *

Two days passed, and Brunhilda still failed to spot either another ship or land. Her throat was like a desert, the salt water and lack of fresh water making her weak and parched. She could barely move anymore, so great was her weakness that all she could do was simply cling to the remains of their vessel in the hopes that an end would come, either from the mercy of the gods or man.

Her eyes drifted to her daughter, whose wound had begun to scab and settled for a dull red atop her pale skin. Astrid still hadn't stirred, muttering softly in her sleep about crabs and sea-shells. While this concerned Brunhilda, she almost found relief in knowing her daughter didn't have to remain awake and suffer through this Hel, as the absolute boredom would kill the little warrior long before anything else.

' _Gods'_ Thought Brunhilda, _'She's sure grown big in'ae short time, hasn't she?'_

It seemed like yesterday that they were safe in Gothi's hut, with Brunhilda holding a swaddled newborn girl as her husband and boys crowded around to get a look at what they thought was a new baby brother. The memory made her smile, as her boys soon found out that the little dainty girl could give them a run for their money and most certainly would when she was older.

Acthun had talked her into letting him commission a wee little axe from Gobber for her third birthday just a month ago, and was eagerly making poor drawings alongside his oblivious daughter on what her dream weapon would look like. While the images were borderline concerning even for a viking, Achtun was delighted in knowing his daughter shared the same view that an axe was simply begging to have more blades attached to it. Stoick shared a hearty laugh with them both when they heard Gobber's frustration at trying to get all the wooden pointy bits to spin correctly while in the Great Hall. The poor blacksmith had nearly gone purple in the face during his explanation before little Astird and her constant companion Hiccup ran up to him. Astrid asked if she could sit on his lap and Hiccup begged to play with his arm attachments. The misshapen softy couldn't resist, and took great delight in regaling the wide eyed Astrid with grandiose tales as Hiccup began to swing his mallet attachment into the stone ground, trying to be just like his father.

Simple times and simple memories were what had made life on Berk, normally frigid and deadly, so bright and worthwhile. They were faced with extinction every day, yet found a way to laugh through most of it. Family was all you really had when you were a viking.

And she had lost hers. All that was left of the Hofferson family tree was on a treacherous piece of driftwood.

Her grip tightened imperceptibly at the thought, pulling herself just a little bit closer to the wood. Her focus on memories took hold again in an attempt to keep her occupied and hopeful, pulling her deep into a stupor.

So deep was her trance that she hardly noticed the world around her until a shadow flickered above her. Eyes crusted in sea salt opened, and Astrid stirred slightly, looking at her broken mother without a care in the world, gasping lightly to the woman who always looked after her.

"Momma..." she wheezed, "Can I haf' some water?" before slipping back into unconsciousness. Brunhilda could cry no more tears as she gazed desperately beyond her daughter to look for...

 **Land.**

It took Brunhilda a few seconds before she could properly understand what lay just ahead of her, her vision weakening as another shadow flickered past her head. What was more, after feeling the tides and watching the slowly approaching peak of the sharp, tall island grow closer, it was apparent that the currents were slowly pulling the two of them to the shoreline.

Hope rose in her heart, daring to dream that she had enough energy to make it to the island, maybe even help push them to a boat if they saw one.

For a third time, a shadow flickered above her, and this time much deeper and wider than before. The distant sound of cutting wind was soon replaced with the telltale signs of wings. The hated sound that foretold the death of countless vikings and smouldering villages, the sound that once inspired bloodlust yet now only filled the warrior with all-consuming dread. Hovering slightly ahead and above the two of them, a bright sky-blue Deadly Nadder watched them carefully with narrowed eyes, mouth slightly agape as it examined the broken warrior and her hatchling.

Silence reigned as both beings evaluated the situation, one severely more concerned with the presence of a dragon than the other was of a human. The delicate silence was broken with the dry cough of Astrid, who had begun to roll off the plank of wood and towards the water. Startled, Brunhilda reached to stop her from rolling, but days of fixed posture and intense exhaustion had fused her arms in place, barely even able to move her arms without intense focus and pain.

"Oh Odin, please no, not like this Odin oh no please not her. Not my Astrid..." weeped Brunhilda as her baby girl gently rolled face first into the water. Her cries of alarm and fear granted her frantic movements, as she desperately tried to inch her lifeless arms towards her now floating daughter. After a few jerking movements, she almost managed to reach her daughter before a shadow overtook her and a delicate claw reached down to grab Astrid from right in front of her. As her daughter was raised into the air by the beast, Brunhilda's sobs turned to screams of horror. Spitting hatred and curses to the beast, Brunhilda paddled feebly yet desperately towards the perplexed and alarmed dragon, who saw the danger and aggression in the wounded woman's eyes.

Beating it's wings slowly, the Nadder began to lift itself and its daughter far into the air, clear out of reach from the matriarch and away from the approaching island, back out towards the endless grey sea in a direction that she could not follow.

The screams of frustration and defeat that chased after the dragon was like that of a dragon itself, the passion and fury tearing her dry throat open like a knife. It was as if it was the final cry of a wounded and dying animal, echoing across the ocean and following the reptile as it beat its wings faster in an attempt to escape the horrible noise.

Brunhilda only stopped screaming when her daughter had long become a dot in the distance, vanishing from view. She no longer had the life within her to try anymore. The Indomitable Hofferson line had been defeated and wiped out in one day.

She had been defeated. But that didn't mean she was done. It was only the purest hate that kept her heart beating.

She would find that Nadder, and murder it with her own bare hands.

But until then, she would mourn.

* * *

Astrid woke up to the sensation of cold, fresh water running into her mouth. The tiny warrior looked around in confusion as she tried to remember where she was and what was happening. As she fully awakened from her daze, she realized her thirst and drank as much water as her small mouth could take.

After a solid minute or two of refreshing herself, Astrid looked around once more. Where she was used to the constant sounds of frothing vikings and clanging steel, she could hear only the sounds of nature around her.

Spotting two brightly coloured birds in the trees around her, Astrid giggled as they angrily hopped and tweeted at one another, clearly in some silly and funny argument. Her entertainment was short-lived, as the two birds suddenly stopped along with all the other nearby sounds of nature before taking off into the air.

Curious, Astrid looked around for any sign of life other than the now vacant birds. Soon, she heard a snap from behind and wiped her small frame around to face the being; a wide smile on her face as she cried out in anticipation.

"Momma!"

But what greeted her wasn't her mother, it was something markedly less scary but far more terrifying to most people. The bright blue Nadder tilted its head as it observed her with wide eyes, clearly enraptured with this little viking, having never seen one so small before.

Likewise, Astrid had never even seen a dragon, as she was always in the Great Hall playing Bashy Sticks with the rest of the kids her age during the raids. She had always been told something about dragons, but Astrid didn't really pay attention to the Chief that often when he spoke.

With nothing else to fall back on, she straightened her back and stuck out her hand just like her momma taught her and chanted out in practised and forced tones, "Hi, I'm Astrid!".

The Nadder dropped the cluster of apples it held in its mouth on the ground and sqwaked loudly into the air, flapping its wings and shaking its tail, making Astrid giggle.

Her new friend didn't seem so bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Happenstance and Fortune**

More days and nights had passed than Astrid could count, the cold slowly beginning to settle on the once warm nights. The world around the young girl was unlike anything she had ever seen. Unlike Berk, the rolling green woods around her never seemed to find an end. Every day, she walked with her new friend in a new direction, and each day she let herself be carried back to a small cave by the fresh spring; exhausted and no closer to finding her home.

After she awoke to find her new friend chirping worriedly above her, Astrid felt the hard clamp of hunger on her mind. She spent the entire day looking for something she knew she could eat. The blue beast hovered around her as she carefully watched which fruits Astrid recognized from her family's hall. Food was scarce, and Astrid could only gather a few berries and fruits in a day, despite the bird-like dragon fluttering to-and-fro in its attempt to gather similar items to feed its newfound companion.

Astrid had never had a pet before, and by extension was never really good with names. But her friend was already acting like a sister and a mother all in one, therefore it simply wouldn't do for her not to have a name.

The young girl had proposed one or two to the dragon as their days went on, talking insistently to her plucky companion. The name 'Berrysnatcher' and 'Eyetwitch' hadn't gone over very well with the proud dragon, and had been promptly refused with a flat glare. The glares never lasted too long however, as the dragon would suddenly spot a small twig in her hair or ruffled clothes and would rush to preen her charge.

Amidst giggles, Astrid couldn't help but feel grateful she had been found by the big cute dragon. It made her laugh, helped feed her, curled itself around her to keep her warm and carried her home when she was tired. She faintly remembered the horrible stories of the dragons her momma and poppa were always fighting, but none of them seemed true when she stared into the warm eyes of _her_ dragon.

Every morning, Astrid would wake up and scratch the blue dragon under her chin and rouse her from slumber. Ready and full of energy, the two would set off aimlessly in whichever direction the little girl had chosen at the moment. It never seemed to matter, as they would always find themselves at home. There were few moments when Astrid was alone, and that was when the beast flew off to hunt after it made extra sure that the little girl wasn't going anywhere.

It was always breath taking to watch her dragon leap into the air with a shrill cry, doing tricks for Astrid's amusement as it flew off to find its prey. They had a system without words, when Astrid sat down to eat her meagre lunch, the dragon would fly off to find her own.

Astrid had long since stuffed her small handful of nuts and berries into her face while waiting for her companion's return when great black clouds began to pool above her. Recognizing the clouds, Astrid began to jump with excitement, and removing her threadbare shoes in preparation for what would be a grand time of dancing. As the rain began to pour down on the rolling green forest, Astrid broke into what parts she could remember of a jig her brothers had taught her in the great hall during a wedding. Skidding and jumping across a small clearing, Astrid showed Thor who was the tiniest and greatest dancer in the woods.

So wrapped up in her dance, the small girl failed to notice the low rumbling and flashing that began to flash above her, as though Thor sought to congratulate and warn the small girl all at once. Great peels of thunder began to arc across the forest, striking the tallest trees across the woods and shattering them into small shreds of kindling.

As Thor raised his hammer once again, Astrid finally noticed the terrifying show of nature above her, the smile falling from her lips and replacing itself with a quivering whimper.

Bursting through the storm, her beloved companion and caretaker grabbed Astrid by the scruff of her neck and crashed into the treeline, mere seconds before a streak of lightning crashed into the clearing and vaporized the still wet grass below it. Panting and crying beneath her moaning dragon's wing in thanks, Astrid found her dragon's name.

* * *

Their routine continued to form, and the distances they crossed grew greater and greater with each day. Yet, at the same time, so did Astrid's gnawing hunger. As the fat on her face grew small and lean with each day of malnourishment, she could almost feel her time slowly running out. Long gone were the days when she could bask in the warmth of the sun, and as the very last of the fruit was shrivelling up and falling, Stormfly seemed more on edge and watchful around Astrid. The dragon often flew off multiple times a day to feed, offering more than once to share her bounty with Astrid. The offer was tempting, but one encounter with raw fish was more than enough to make the three year old sick at the thought.

Stormfly plowed forwards through the woodlands, a more confident Astrid sat on her back as she clung to the plethora of spikes that littered her perch. Brown, orange and red flashed by her as she ducked bellow the branches that swept past her head, bobbing and weaving with Stormfly to pluck small gnarled apples from high branches as the passed.

She had never spent a winter on her own, but Astrid remembered the biting cold of her home island, when the hearth in her hall wasn't enough to make the cold stay its hand.

Shivering at the memory, Astrid curled up tighter against Stormfly's back, earning a worried squawk from the dragon. Murmuring words of encouragement to her best friend, she sat up and looked at her portion assembled in front of her. While a much larger bounty than normal, Astrid couldn't help but whimpering at the crushing pain in her stomach.

Sensing her riders hunger and discomfort, Stormfly lowered down on her haunches and shook lightly, as tried and tested sign to the little girl that the ride was over. Astrid carefully held her supply within the folds of her threadbare blue dress as she slowly dropped off the lowered dragon.

Lowering herself onto the grass, Astrid began to dig into the varied nuts, berries and small fruits they had collected that day. All too soon, Astrid finished her meal and rolled onto her side without any satisfaction. There was simply no food left for the girl, in the woods nor in her bodies reserves. The cold of the woods seemed to bite far deeper as she lay there, the frantic and worried calls of Stormfly all around her.

Weeks of little comfort, food or peace had eaten away at the tough but young viking, and the sudden realization that she would go hungry had finally brought her low.

"Storm...fly..." she whimpered, reaching her hand out to touch the beasts snout as it drew closer to check her for illness. It eyes shot open wide at her fragility and immediately leaped into the air, circling several times before shooting off at great speed. She watched Stormfly leave with fluttering eyes, unable to crane her neck and look up after her companion.

The bitter frost seemed to settle on the forest as the quickly moving sun raced towards the horizon, slowly knocking the leaves out of the trees and onto the ground around Astrid's prone form.

Strange noises began to glide on the wind, the deep guttural sounds of wild animals slowly drawing near with the rustle of the undergrowth and snapping of felled branches.

Panic shot through Astrid, though the power to move escaped her as her body fell numb with exhaustion and cold.

* * *

The presence of the animals wrapped around her, and soon she felt herself being lifted up, the guttural noises still aimed right at her. Warmth surrounded her, and soon she found herself unable to resist the call of sleep in an animals arms.

Warmth cut through the haze of sleep, coating Astrid in an uncomfortable layer of sweat and displeasure. The first sensation she felt as she roused from sleep was the feeling of a soft fur surrounding her from head to toe. Her eyes creaked open to the flickering light and crackle of a campfire, whose warmth reached her in waves.

The soft grunts and chortles of men echoed in her ears as she opened her eyes past the pain and up at the stretched leather ceiling of a tent above her. A low glow flickered from outside the tent and rested on the tips of her feet. Rather than immediately sit up to start her day like she normally would, Astrid couldn't help but bask in the warm furs she had been depraved of for so long, humming with contentment as she rolled and attempted to surround herself with the furs as tightly as possible.

Feeling the soft pull of sleep tugging at her once again, Astrid's eyes fluttered before contentedly sighing "G'night Stormfly" as she always did since her best friend got her name.

Yet sleep didn't come immediately to Astrid, as she felt the hairs on neck stand up straight at the sudden and sharp silence all around. The mysterious voices of the men outside had stopped speaking in their low guttural tongue, and all the little girl could hear now was the snap-hiss of the fire weakly burning beyond the tent's folds.

The unnatural silence set Astrid on edge, all to familiar with it during the long nights when her fathers hall was fast asleep while the sharp winds whistled and whispered through the cracks in their home as though they were alive.

The muffled footsteps on the ground outside made Astrid sit up straight, as she was hit with the realization that she had no idea where she was or who was outside her tent right then and there. Tears welled up in her eyes as she figured that since Stormfly wasn't in the tent, that her best friend may not know where she was.

The fear in her stomach wasn't given the time to grow as the flaps of the tent opened to the brightness of the campsite and several large men standing in the entrance, shadowed by the now-visible night sky and flames. A small cry escaped her lips in reflex as the lead man began to speak to her in his harsh, unintelligible language.

After several moments of silence, the lead man repeated himself, a more urgent and hostile tone escaping him as he urged her to answer his unintelligible questions. Tears began to surface in Astrid's eyes, unable to keep herself from panicking under the sudden stress of interrogation.

The large man shook his fist at her, and took a single step forward. Yet that was all it took to illicit a sharp sob from the small girl, all her willpower breaking under her terror. Several of the other men began to murmur, and the apparent leader growled in frustration as he spat in front of the girl, reaching for the seaxe he had strapped to his belt.

Backing away on all fours, Astrid barely found her voice as she stammered out the reflexive words of every three year old.

"I'm sorry!" she sobbed, curling in a corner of the tent, shuddering gasps rocking her body as the emotional toll of the last few months coursed through her with the confusing nature of these strange people and the land she found herself in.

The men stilled, and a man in the back of the group began to yell at the leader in apparent disgust. The larger man had the decency to look sheepish, his hand moving from his blade as he took a step back.

The vocal man in the rear of the group pushed his way forwards and into the tent, taking small steps towards Astrid as he made cooing noises and calming gestures. Slowly working his way towards the distraught girl, he sat down in front of her, causing the petite blonde to flinch.

"Calm yourself girl, you make Lars nervous." chortled the man in thickly accented, yet clear, Norse. Astrid's face shot up from its place between her knees, wide tear stained eyes staring at him wildly with her mouth agape.

"You... You understand me?" Astrid asked in disbelief.

"Aye. Family traded with vikings a lot when I was a boy. Used to play with the children while our parents made deals. Taught me Norse." the man spoke softly and with kindness, as though he understood Astrid's struggle. "My name is Schäfer," he continued, "and if you are a viking then you must be a _very_ long way from home." He reached into his pocket and drew out a long strip of jerky and held it out to the young girl. "Eat, you must be hungry."

It took Astrid only a second before she leapt forwards and tore the jerkey apart, all semblance of decency her mother taught her long forgotten in the face of food. Brittle, hard and utterly tasteless, Astrid had tasted nearly as good as that dried meat in her life. Gulping it down in two big mouthfuls, Astrid was roused in time to see another piece being presented to her; which was promptly devoured once again.

By her third piece, Astrid was eating more slowly, taking calm bites and chewing her food properly as she looked at the man in front of her. He seemed leaner than the other men by the entrance (who had already begun to drift away from the show and towards the fire), and his face had an easy smile on it. He wore simple garbs and furs, a short bow resting on the ground next to him with a small quiver of notched arrows resting on his back.

"My name..." she suddenly stammered out, unsure herself where the words came from, "My name is Astrid!" she finished with a jolt of joy. Sticking her hand out to the man just like she was raised to do, she beamed her best smile at Schäfer, who chuckled at the wild, unkempt viking in front of him with bits of jerky still in her teeth.

Taking it daintily, Schäfer gave a small nod at the little fighter. "I have a daughter just like you, ya know?" he smirked, standing up and taking her hand with him. Astrid followed her new friend with little prompting as he continued. "And if you're anything like her, then I'll bet you want some nice and cooked fish!"

Unable to remember the last time she had enjoyed cooked food, Astrid took the lead and began to steer Schäfer to the campfire as fast as possible.

The other men around the small campsite of half a dozen tents surrounded the pit, chortling and pointing at the cute scene. The unmistakable noises of jeering lashed out from around the fire, which Schäfer replied to in turn in the same spitting tongue.

Handing Astrid his already cooked and ready fish, Schäfer placed another freshly gutted fish on a spike and positioned it over the fire. Astrid watched with great interest on how the fish was cooked as she eat slowly around the sharp bones.

The men were all dressed similarly to Schäfer, all tooled up with small hunting bows, spears and daggers. Several men passed around a wineskin and told grandiose stories with extravagant and confusing hand motions, much to the cajoling and disbelief of their comrades.

"So Astrid, where are you from?" Schäfer probed quietly and he slowly rotated his fish above the flames.

Astrid's brow furrowed at the question, trying to figure out what exactly he meant by that. Chewing thoughtfully, she mulled over the question before perking up and turning to Schäfer. "I live in a cave by the spring!" she exclaimed, proud of her clear answer.

Displeasure flashed across the mans face briefly, before shifting back into his easy confidence. "Nay, I meant where do you come from?"

Now this question truly made Astrid pull a face in consternation, trying to remember the bits and pieces of her homeland. The only things that really stood out were the games of Grumpkins and Gnashers that she and her friends used to play under the Goethi's hut, as well as her hall.

Telling her new friend just as much, and that she only knew she lived in her momma and poppa's hall in the village, Astrid sat back contentedly as she munched on the small remains of her fish.

Schäfer reached up and scratched his beard, before turning to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"How long ye been out here?"

"I'm not sure..." came Astrids self-conscious reply.

"How did ye survive for so long out here, all on your lonesome?" Schäfer inquired, leaning closer as if to hear better.

"Oh!" exclaimed Astrid, brightening up considerably, "I wasn't alone at all! I was with Stormfly!"

"Stormfly? What's a Stormfly?"

"She's big, blue, carries me and helps me find nuts and berries!" squeed Astrid, who was almost vibrating with excitement "You would really like her! You're both big!"

This earned a laugh from Schäfer, who waved the conversation off in playful eye-rolls. "Aye, well, while I'm thankful for Stormfly, it may be best if ye come along with us for now."

Astrid shot Schäfer a wary look, "Can Stormfly come too?" she asked.

"Of course, of course, that's 'nay a problem." Schäfer said, looking relieved.

The two sat in silence as men stretched and began moving to their respective tents, some stretching out on the ground and casting a longing look at Astrid's tent before curling up into balls of fur.

Keeping her voice in what she thought was a hushed whisper, Astrid felt the need to ask what Schäfer and his band did.

"Well, we're sort of both hunters and gatherers," he started, scratching the back of his head as he searched for the right words in Norse. "We find what we can for our families back home, and then we send it on its way while we stay out here and keep gathering."

Astrid nodded solemnly at what she believed was a noble profession, and suddenly felt her eyelids get heavy as she slumped forwards where she sat, the exhaustion she managed to brush off for a short time beginning to take its toll on her once more.

The calloused hands of Schäfer carried her to the tent she had woken up from, decidedly more at ease and full than she had been this morning.

Soon the sensation of a warm cloak being draped over her blotted out all other senses, and Astrid faintly heard Schäfer whisper his goodnight's before leaving the tent.

"G'night Stormfly. G'night Schäfer."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh ho ho! And so the story continues.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Easy Money**

Astrid woke up to the sounds of labour. Sitting up blearily after the first full nights rest and full meal in months, she groggily stumbled out of her tent and into the bright morning sunlight. With daylight pouring into the campsite, Astrid could now see they were in one of the small clearings that dotted the vast forest. A score of men bustled around the camp, packing up tents and gathering personal belongings. Several men were sharpening the blades of the group on whetstones while others hefted great burlap sacks and carried them further into the forest. Standing within the tumultuous campsite was the man Schäfer had referred to as Lars. It was clear now that he was a great ox of a man, his clean shaven head bare to the wind with a mighty beard growing from his chin. Brows furrowed, he called and shouted to his men while donning what looked to be a great metal shirt of many links, and tying a girdle laden with pouches and blades. Lars wasn't the only ox in the camp apparently, as several oxen were tied to a post a little ways off to the side of the leader.

Almost immediately after she left the tent, a couple of men rushed to her tent and quickly broke it down. When Astrid turned back towards Lars, his hard eyes locked onto hers. Stepping towards her and barking out an order, he pointed at the cluster of men who were sharpening blades; among them was Schäfer.

Sensing the command, Astrid scurried off to join Schäfer, a smile making its way up her face as the kind man waved at her and gestured her towards them.

"Good morning, young Astrid. Did ye sleep well?" he asked, a smile clear in his eyes as he took in her rumpled and dishevelled state.

"Yeah! It was great, thanks so much for all the food!" Astrid replied cheerily, patting one of the other men in the circle on the back. When that earned her a raised eyebrow, Schäfer laughed and translated. Soon the others joined in, and one even ruffled Astrid's hair much to her indignant squawking.

The men were glad for the distraction from their dull work and asked many questions of the young girl, who in turn posed her own; all translated through a chortling Schäfer.

"Where are you from?" one of the men had asked, a squat fellow.

"My mother and fathers hall!" Astrid replied dutifully.

Snorting and saying no more, the squat man returned his attention to the axe he was working on. A man with a great mass of hair on his head, covering him from top to bottom asked how old she was, and the answer of three summers shocked the group into silence. "A wee lass of three shouldn't be out of her home at all" murmured Schäfer.

Seeing a chance to ask a serious question, a lanky man leaned forwards and pointed at her face before asking where she had gotten the scar.

The scar in question was now long and white, fully healed only recently. Astrid absentmindedly reached up to scratch it before shrugging and relaying all she knew to Schäfer. She couldn't remember at all. One moment she was collecting seashells, and the next she woke up in this weird forest with only Stormfly around her.

"What's a 'Stormfly'?" asked Schäfer with a question of his own. Sitting up straight and puffing out her chest, Astrid declared loudly "Stormfly is the best friend in the world!"

Seeing he would get no real answer from the girl, Schäfer chuckled and handed her a small piece of dried fruit. When the girl glared at it to the amusement of the men, one of the other hunter pulled out a boar sausage he had been planning to eat on the road and handed it to her with much greater success.

The silence that followed was peaceful at first, but the mention of Stormfly set a knot of worry inside her stomach, which grew and grew until unease grew to fear and sadness. Soon, the fierce young girl was fighting back tears and shuddering, earning worried looks from the hunters.

"Is everything all right?" asked Schäfer worriedly as he checked for any injuries he could see at a distance.

And just like that, the floodgates opened as Astrid sobbed into Schäfer's arms while gasping out Stormfly's name. The camp ground to a halt as the men looked over at the source of the commotion.

Schäfer tried to calm her down, but to no avail. Soon, red faced Lars stomped over to the group and began shouting in their fierce tongue. The men began to gather around and look at the brewing argument.

Astrid, not fully understanding the argument, began to tug on Schäfer's arm and point at Lars. After several pulls, both men looked down at her with varying degrees of irritation. Missing their ire entirely, she continued, "Schäfer! Can you ask the big Lars man if we can wait for Stormfly! She's really good at tracking us and she'll love you guys!"

The older man bit his lip as his eyes flickered between Lars and the little girl before kneeling next to her and whispering, "Now Astrid, is Stormfly a real person? Not an imaginary friend?"

"Of course," was her response, "She's like a big sister to me! She makes sure I'm fed and warm and takes care of me!"

Taking a moment to ponder this, the hunter nodded and stood up, calmly explaining the girls request. As he continued, Lars' red face grew into a shade of purple before he noticed the sympathetic eyes of the men surrounding them.

Finally, he threw his hands in the air before turning around and stomping off, chainmail chattering while calling directions as he tore his long and wicked axe out of a tree before heading into the woods.

A brief moment passed before the camp seemed to release a breath they all unknowingly held. As the audience shuffled off to finish their tasks, Schäfer turned back to Astrid with a look of compassion on his face.

Hunching slightly, he addressed Astrid's apparent confusion, "So, Lars has given us until midday to wait for your friend. If she isn't here by then, then we have to go." Seeing the water building behind her eyes, his face grew hard and brokered no argument, "No Astrid, you said your friend was good tracker yes? Then she can follow us as we make our way to Tanglim. It's a small town on the coast." he went on once he saw a loo of understanding flash across her face. "there, we are going to sell what we've gathered and I can see about helping you find out where your home is. But until then, I'm going to need you to do everything I say, alright?"

Astrid chewed her lip as she weighed her options, nodded and decided to put her faith in Stormfly's talent.

* * *

The hours flickered by as the hunters amused themselves with games of skill and strength, some throwing knives or rolling dice while others wrestled and fought. While those who weren't participating in this distraction were actively cheering, Astrid found her gaze focus squarely up at the sky above her. She'd long since given up shouting Stormfly's name, especially when Lars gave her a particularly nasty glare.

Sitting as she was on a large root, kicking her legs into the grass and staring off into the distance, Astrid didn't even notice that Schäfer had approached her and was calling her name until he stood right before her.

Jolting out of her daze, Astrid shot to her feet tried to look Schäfer in the eyes as she spoke, "Hi Schäfer, she's going to be here very soon, I can just feel it!"

Yet the man didn't return her smile, and with tired eyes patted Astrid on the shoulder and seemed to drag his words out of his accented mouth. "Nay Astrid. We can't wait any longer." Astrid's eyes flickered past his shoulders and up to the blue sky frantically while he continued, "As we agreed, now we gotta move."

"But maybe if we-" Astrid began.

"No." He stated firmly, his eyes sympathetic but hard. "This is final. I don't want ta leave you alone in the woods, but Lars will make me do it iffin' ya slow us down any further."

Astrid felt the wind fly out of her even as she continued to look up to the sky all the way to centre of the campsite.

"Ey."

A warm hand on her head accompanied the voice as Schäfer added hopefully, "Maybe your pal will have a better time of finding us on the road."

Smiling at the newfound hope, Astrid sprinted ahead of the hunter to rush to the aide of a man who was struggling underneath the weight of a large chest.

The whole camp moved quickly, the large pile of organized camp gear being hastily picked up and carried through the woods towards a large pile of bushes several meters from a narrow dirt road.

Within minutes, the men had cleared away what was apparently the camouflage for three large oaken wagons. Each wagon was loaded with furs, which the men quickly moved in order to place the large crates and boxes they had with them; only to swiftly replace the furs to cover as much as possible.

The beasts of burden that Astrid had seen at the campsite were brought forwards and quickly tied to each cart, two apiece. A pair of hands swiftly picked her up and placed her atop one of the less laden wagons before racing off to prepare some other unknown task.

After about half and hour of prep and last minute checks, the men were ready to start the caravan and its journey.

The men walked on either sides of the wagons, fully armed and on the lookout for possible trouble. Eight men walked abreast of each side, spreading out to cover each wagon. Two more walked off far ahead from the others to scout, whilst two others walked far behind to watch for potential threats approaching from behind. Lars sat in the front wagon alongside the lead driver, fingering his axe handle as he stared off in silence.

Schäfer worked his way next to Astrid's place in the middle wagon and chatted with the little girl as they progressed. He regaled her with tales of his hometown and of his daughter, while she in turn told him of the games they used to play back at her home and of her momma and poppa.

* * *

The time flew by, and soon the sun was setting rapidly as the column ground to a halt for the night. Lars kicked the dirt in frustration as the group unpacked.

When Astrid asked Schäfer why Lars was so upset, Schäfer grimaced and explained to the little girl that the town they were meant to arrive at was approximately half a day out, much to the growing comprehension by the sheepish girl.

The crew had just hidden the wagons and began to move into the woods in search of a campsite when one of the rear guard scrambled up to Lars. At first the larger man seemed confused, but then his face lit up with eagerness as well as apprehension. The whole group stilled as they listened to the scout with rapt attention while watching their leader slowly nod in understanding.

Astrid tugged furiously at Schäfer's arm in order to get him to translate, but the man ignored her with stoic indifference as he stared wide eyed at the scene unfolding.

After a few more split second questions and responses, Lars turned to the group and slowly unsheathed his mighty axe and pulled a shield from one of the concealed wagons as he began to mutter, his low and conspiratorial tone reaching across the entirety of the group.

No one said anything in response, yet all nodded, eager looks stretching across their faces as they slow drew out their assorted blades and maces. Next to Astrid, Schäfer drew his bow from his back and quickly kneeled in front of Astrid. Taking her hand in his remaining free hand, he whispered fiercely to her in Norse. "Listen to me Astrid" he said, his eyes boring in to hers with absolute seriousness, "There's going to be some noises. Horrible noises. But no matter what happens, I want you to stay here until the noises stop, okay?" getting no reaction, he shook the small girl hard before repeating himself, "Okay?! It will be safe here, and **only** here."

The group around them began to quickly move onto the road and back the way they came, keeping low and melding into the woodlands as they went. Schäfer stood quickly and gave her one final look before finally jogging after the others.

Astrid sat still in fear and apprehension as she waited through the crippling silence. Soon, the clattering of wheels were heard from the road, as well as the chattering of voices breaking into the treeline.

"-ed. Some of these men won't make it if we stop now. We push for Tanglim as fast as possible."

Astrid shot to her feet as she listened closer with wide eyes and beating heart to make sure her mind hadn't played tricks on her.

"There should be a ship waiting there to take us back to the Archipelago." One feminine voice spoke to another unseen and unheard voice.

They were speaking Norse! Unable to resist, Astrid crept swiftly through the underbrush to try and get a closer look at the source of the voices.

Two wagons were being dragged along the road. Both were filled with crates, though one was stacked with the groaning and unconscious forms of bleeding men. On the sides of the wagons marched 5 men each, each sporting wounds and damaged armour in some way as they plodded along. At the front sat an older woman with bright red hair and a determined look on her face, along with a weary looking driver.

The small caravan ground to a halt, however, as Schäfer stepped into view from seemingly nowhere, hailing the travellers.

"Good evening, my beautiful woman. How are you today?" he asked, bowing low.

The redhead crossed her arms and huffed at the man, while the guards tensed and gripped their weapons; eyes frantically searching the woodlands on their sides.

"And who might you be?" The woman asked, clearly not impressed with the man.

"I am but a humble Shepard, and I see you are in need! Perhaps we may be able to aid you." he continued, straightening up and flashing her a brilliant smile.

"Oh? And how exactly might you do that?" Asked the redheaded woman as she stood up, hands twitching as she stared at Schäfer and no one else.

"Well, I have some friends around these parts, and I'm sure we could find a place to store your cargo as you race off to bring these young men to town and their salvation." he continued, toothy grin still reflecting his warm eyes.

Astrid watched in terror as the redhead slowly reached behind her and pulled out a small axe before responding in a voice that brooked no argument. "As lovely as your offer is, I can't in good faith take such generosity from so humble a Shepard. So, we will continue if you do not mind." she ended almost challengingly.

Schäfer cried out "Oh, but of course madame!" before sweeping low and muttering in a barely audible voice that went unnoticed, if not for Astrid's nearby position. "Such a shame."

Schäfer suddenly shot up, a small blade flying towards the woman in the lead. The blade barely missed its mark, instead burying itself in the chest of the older man driving the cart. The woman leapt off the cart as the remaining 'hunters' rushed out from the woods and charged the remaining guards.

Astrid stared in horror as the squat man from earlier that morning fell dead to the ground with a scream. The guard who buried an axe there soon met him there, as Lars fell upon the men like an animal, screaming and laughing as he rampaged through the scattered defence of the caravan.

The wounded men in the carts tried to rise up and take arms, but most were swiftly dragged from their carts and butchered, while those that rose leaned against one another to try and stay upright.

The pair of lead pack-horses got loose and sprinted down the road, knocking any and all out of their path.

Blood curdling screams rang out from across the caravan as fighting raged.

Another man from Lars' group hit the ground in front of her with wide eyes, staring past her and gasping out choking breaths as he scrambled for his life-force to return.

The one feminine voice in the carnage screamed out in pain as Lars caught her while she fled, throwing her face down into the dirt. As the rest of the men began to mop up what was left of the enemy forces, Astrid saw a monstrous look come into Lars' eyes, the likes of which she had never seen before as he eyed the redhead below. Burying his axe into the edge of a wagon, Lars grabbed the redheaded woman by the hair and began to drag her in Astrid's direction. Schäfer looked away in disgust as the redhead began to cry horrible sobs of fear as Lars dragged her off.

One second, she was in the woods. The next, she was sprinting towards the trio screaming at the top of her lungs. "Leave her alone! Stop it!"

She swiftly punched Lars right in the nethers, causing the man to double over in pain. The redheaded woman dashed off instantly, outrunning Schäfer as she ran after one of the loose horses, screaming its name.

Schäfer drew back on his bow to take her down as she ran, stopping only when he saw Lars straighten up.

The man began to howl with rage as he drew back his mailed hand and smacked Astrid across the head, sending her starry-eyed and skidding across the dirt. Before Astrid could even react, the large man was upon her. He punched her, and then again. Each hit sent a bit of blood out of the small girl, her body writing with pain. The third punch, however, was stopped as Schäfer punched Lars in the head and shoved him away from her.

Some of the bandits who were nearby turned to look at them and formed a loose circle as the two began screaming at one another. Astrid couldn't really tell who was saying what, but it was clearly about her due to all the furious pointing and fist shaking.

Suddenly, Lars wrenched his axe out of the wagon he had buried it in and swung at Schäfer. The man barely dodged it, swiftly tearing out his own dagger and taking a swiped at the larger mans exposed knees. The sharp steel bit into the soft skin and leathers protecting it, though not without cost. The big man and dropped his fists into Schäfer's back, knocking the smaller man to the ground. Astrid watched in awe as her only human friend rolled out of the way just in time, narrowly avoiding the heavy axe as it split the earth beneath it. The two fought for another minute, take small hits at each other before Schäfer ducked under his foes axe before swinging out his bow from underneath him; cracking it across the other mans metal helm.

The concussive force staggered him, and the big man was toppled when Schäfer punched him square in the jaw. On him in an instant, Schäfer drew his dagger and was about to plunge it into the larger mans eye before he grunted in pain.

Astrid wordlessly watched as one of Schäfer's comrades tore his spear from her friends chest, leaving him to fall bloodied to the ground next to his groaning former commander. Rushing over to her friend, she saw his eyes were closed as blood oozed from the gaping hole in his chest.

Tears welled up inside her, but she had no time to grief as a pair of rough hands hauled her into the air by her hair.

Lars glared at her furiously with bloodshot eyes as she screamed in pain before slowly picking up the dagger that had belonged to her friend and pointing it at her throat.

Fear clamped down on her as she screamed at the top of her lungs over the gasps of dying men and the screams of those who wished they were already dead.

" _ **Stormfly!"**_

There was a small beat of silence as though the world itself stopped to listen, every man there shaking their heads in shame or embarrassment for the little girl.

Lars made a big show of looking around, listening for any sign of her mysterious friend.

Nothing.

A vicious smile curled on his lips as he began to spit in his foreign tongue, grip tightening as he drew back his blade to the sound of Astrid softly crying.

Taking a deep breath, he raised it once more-

An ungodly screech broke through the woodlands, unheard of by the men who lived in these woods. All looked around in fear, particularly the wounded guards who had surrendered. Lars looked around with alarm before settling his sights on the only person who looked unconcerned with the noise.

Astrid beamed in excitement, her predicament forgotten as she shouted, "Stormfly! Come here girl!"

Another screech, closer and louder this time sounded out. The men began to step away from the little girl, realizing her friend may not have been human at all. Lars quickly regained his senses and raised his hand to the sound of whipping winds, before bringing down his blade on the young girl to the gasps of his men.

At least, that was what he intended to do. Instead of a blade, he thumped a bloody stump against Astrid's chest. Shock and confusion raced through him before he heard the screech once more, directly above him. Looking up, he saw Stormfly spit out his hand, still clutching the dagger. Dropping Astrid, the man turned to flee in terror before a large spine ripped through his chest, mail and all.

The survivors exploded into action, some trying to run as others hefted their blades and rushed the dragon; guard and bandit alike.

All burned or were impaled as the killing machine stampeded through the caravan, her white hot streams of fire incinerating the rear cart all together. Astrid dove to the side as Stormfly placed herself between the her and the forces ahead.

The men who tried to flee were nailed with long range spine shots as those who fought were crushed underfoot, bitten fiercely and burnt to a crisp as the blood-rage settled on Astrid's once peaceful and kind best friend.

As her friend fought hard, Astrid tried to save her second friend, shaking him awake as he groaned, eyes flickering open as he looked at the little girl weeping for him.

"Ast...Astrid..." the dying man gasped.

" Schäfer! Stormfly can- she ca-can carry you to s-safe... we can save you!" Astrid bawled, desperately trying to cover up his wound with what little cloth she could find.

A weak hand grabbed hers and stopped her frantic movements. Her eyes shot up to those of the hunter-turned bandit, who shook his head before sitting up and leaning against the last cart.

"Nay. I think I'm done." He hissed as he got comfortable, "Done for good this time, I think."

Prying his eyes away from the wound on his chest, he looked up at the beast tearing apart the men who tried to stop it. "So that's Stormfly, huh?" When Astrid nodded, he continued. "Shouldn't be surprised, but _spirits_ , I'd heard tales but I never thought they were true."

He chuckled at the sight before shaking his head, "I guess we shoulda waited for her in the end."

Schäfer coughed blood into his hands, wincing in pain as the exertion tore through him. Astrid rushed towards him, but was stopped by his hand as he tried in vain to clean his shirt.

"Nah... this won't do. Astrid, bring me my dagger."

Astrid complied, and peeled it out of the cold fingers that still gripped it tight. Racing back to Schäfer, she handed the blade to him, curious as he continued.

"Dead, stabbed through the back by a friend and dyin' as a little girl and a dragon do all the hard work for him." he scoffed, "Hardly the way for a warrior to go out."

"Instead, give me mercy." Schäfer stuck the sharp end of the blade into his chest, right above his heart and extended the blade towards a wide-eyed Astrid.

"Mercy, not as a little girl to a man, but from one warrior to another." He grimaced, before continuing, "I'm a horrible, selfish man. But please, do this last thing for me, eh? And when that's done, get that dragon to take our carts off to wherever you're stayin' and live as long as you can. Wagons got dried food, gold, silk, furs, basically everything you'll need to survive a winter. You can take it to Tanglim, trade it all for a ship to take you home. Someone will help you, you're a cute one after all." He laughed before whimpering softly as the pain coursed through it.

"Ah. Blast it. I'm ready." He looked at her with hard eyes before nodding to her, "All your weight, one thrust there and i'll be dead in a second." He took a deep breath, "A warriors death. Goodbye Astrid." he gave her one last smile, albeit a bloody and weak one.

Astrid sobbed as she hugged the dying man before gasping out "Bye, Schäfer." before pushing with all her weight against the dagger, plunging it straight into the heart of the only kind man she had met in this strange land.

Schäfer kept smiling as he looked at her, before the light slowly left his eyes and he had finally passed.

Astrid wept, and heard the snorting questioning of Stormfly as the dragon leaned down next to Astrid to make sure the little viking was still okay. She only now realized that the battlefield was suspiciously silent, and the smell was beginning to get to her.

"We need to get all this stuff back to the cave. Can you do that girl?" Astrid asked, wiping away the tears from her eyes and staring hard at the dragon.

Stormfly nodded and placed itself over the lead cart, preparing to take off. Before it could though, Astrid clambered on top of her. When the dragon gave the little girl a questioning look, Astrid only weakly smiled back. "Okay girl." she said, looking at the still bloody dagger she clutched in one hand as she held tight to a spike.

"Now I'm ready."

* * *

 **A/N: The father figure of the hour was cut short from his duties far before he could step into the shoes he was meant to fill. The man was laid low, and Astrid has killed her first man; at the age of three no less!**

 **I always liked the idea of how the vikings of Berk are just REALLY good at fighting dragons. Lesser men of weaker stock with less training and less experience would certainly fare far worse against the 'pests' of the island.**

 **Cheers, Jupitermonkey4.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Trimming the Fat**

"Gimme."

The men leading the wagon shook with fear as they stepped away from the wagon, weapons clutched half-heartedly in their hands. Though she was only six, the little viking was a great deal more intimidating than most highway robbers.

The reason for that being the massive blue Deadly Nadder she sat perched atop. Go figure.

Once the men were a good distance away, Astrid clicked her tongue twice and Stormfly leapt on top of the goods laden wagon. The men scrambled for cover as the dragon shot a burst of flame into the air and took off, carrying the entire wagon with her.

Astrid cackled as she saw the men sprint in the direction they'd come from. She didn't know the names of the nearby towns, but she sure knew how long it would take for them to reach it. She had more than a few hours before a hunting party came around.

It took the duo nearly two hours of constant flying to reach their cave, and as soon as they landed Astrid was vibrating with excitement.

Swinging off Stormfly, Astrid clambered onto the wagon and tore off its coverings. Laying inside was a stack of hides, box of leather bound books that burned well, a couple of barrels that Astrid knew was filled with icky tasting water and a small chest full of shiny little coins.

Astrid slapped the stack of furs, which Stormfly lifted in turn between the fine points of her beak. After they were set down alongside the ever growing pile that made for their bed, Astrid dragged the books off the now badly mangled wagon and sat the box down next to the fire pit in the middle of the cave.

Stormfly, knowing by now that Astrid absolutely despised the barrels just took them out of the cart of her own volition and flew out of the cave with the twin barrels clutched between her claws to dispose of them.

Astrid smiled at the small chest of coins as she sat in the wagon and played with them in her hands. They were pretty to look at, though she honestly couldn't find a single use for them. Stormfly didn't wanna eat them and they couldn't be burned. But everyone who she had asked for their stuff had it, so it meant she wasn't crazy for liking the shine of them.

Pushing the small chest off the wagon, the crate exploded open and scattered glittering coins all over the cave. Grinning, Astrid took care to pick up each and every single one of them and add them to the pile in the back of the cave, right behind her bed.

She had been nervous about asking people for things at first, for sure. Her momma had always asked for her, so she felt it was kind of weird to ask strangers for things she needed. But they always gave it!

She had tried to go into that town the nice man had told her of when she was much smaller, but no one could understand her. She had asked for someone to take her home, and after she had taken a piece of sausage off a cart in the market she had been chased out of town.

She'd cried and cried when she saw Stormfly waiting for her outside the town, and it took everything she had to keep her big sister from burning the whole place down.

She hadn't tried to go back since then, and instead just got used to her new home in the cave. There was fresh water, and plenty of animals for Stormfly to hunt. And whenever Astrid got hungry and there was no more food left in the cave, the two would just fly around until they found someone to give her some.

Most of the time, though, they had other things in their carts. The furs were important, and once she found a set of clothes that fit her perfectly! They didn't any more but that was besides the point.

People just felt the need to carry big old carts full of rocks, tools, and even bundles of sticks around. That last one always made her laugh. Who needed sticks when you lived in a forest?

But she took them anyway, because she didn't want to cause any trouble for the gifters. It seemed rude to be picky.

A squawk and a flutter of wings alerted Astrid of Stormfly's return, and in her jaws was a still bleating sheep. Astrid had no idea where she'd gotten the thing, but tapped her foot against the floor as she looked at her big sister crossly.

"You know the rules! No eating in the hall!" Astrid scolded, hands on her hips.

The dragon had the decency to look a bit repentant as it shuffled backwards out of the cave, trotting out of sight as the familiar tears of meat started to sound out.

Astrid smiled at her sisters happy eating and took to her own lunch. Unpacking some of the dried fruits from small crate, Astrid filled a wooden bowl and walked outside to sit with Stormfly.

She found her sitting next to the small lake in front of the cave, right along the water's edge. Plopping down next to the feasting animal, the two sat in companionable silence as Stormfly cracked open bones and little bits of fur hit the grass around her.

It was routine for the two of them. Ask for gifts, eat, then sleep. Sometimes, Stormfly would do tricks with her spines to entertain Astrid by hitting any target she pointed out. Other times, they would play and chase each other around.

And anytime Astrid missed her momma, Stormfly would wrap around her and give her a hug that only a big sister could.

The first sign something was wrong was when Stormfly stopped eating. Once she got going, it was almost impossible to stop. The second she did, Astrid stood up and followed the dragons eyes as it raised its head and slowly started to scan the tree line.

A branch snapped deep in the woods, and Stormfly shot to her feet, her hackles raised in anger as she fanned her wings out to cover Astrid.

It was sweet of her, but it only annoyed the girl as she dipped under her leathery wings and stood flush against the dragons chest.

Soon, the sound of voices started to appear in the woods, and Astrid felt herself growing more and more curious. Gifters had never come to her before, so this was a wonderful surprise.

Stormfly seemed to disagree as she roared at the hidden figures, small flickers of sparks building in the back of her throat.

The voices stopped at that, and after a minute of silence the break of branches continued, though less wildly than before.

Soon, a trio of gifters came through the woods, staring warily at the duo by the lake. And what else could they be, but gifters? Between two of the men was a large chest, though Astrid had no idea what was inside.

Leading them was a woman with bright red hair, long lines on her forehead and weather crows feet on her eyes. But she was a proud woman, and didn't tremble when she saw Stormfly like other people normally did.

Instead, she eyed the dragon warily, and shot Astrid an inquisitive glance. Astrid wasn't sure she liked how the lady was looking at her, and backed up a bit to bury her face in Stormfly's side.

Stormfly grew more agitated, and lift its tail threateningly at the newcomers.

The two men shift nervously, but the woman raised her hands placatingly.

"We mean no harm, I promise. We only want to talk." the woman said, but it was enough to have Astrid's head shoot out from its hiding spot and stare wide eyed at the speaker.

"You… you speak Norse?" Astrid said, her voice quivering a bit. It had been so long since she spoke to anyone other than Stormfly, and she was a bit overwhelmed.

"Yes, I do." she said with a soft voice, "We heard from the locals that there was a demon around, terrorizing the locals and… well we put two and two together."

Astrid scrunched her face up in thought, absently petting Stormfly's head as the beast slowly lowered its tail but not its guard. "Demon? What's that? You must have the wrong cave, it's only us in here. And it's not my fault people run away! Everyone's just a wimp."

Understanding dawned on the woman's face as she nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, young lady, my name is Ljot Skjoldottir. These two men behind me are Malte and Eugen, though they aren't clever enough to speak norse like us two." Ljot winked conspiratorially.

Astrid giggled as the two men looked at each other in confusion at the sound of their names.

"I'm Astrid! And this here is my sister Stormfly!" Astrid said with excitement, happy to show off her dragon. She scratched Stormfly in her favourite spot, right under her chin and earning a happy rumble as the dragons wings slowly lowered.

"A pleasure to meet you both." The woman's smile faded with a sigh, "But sadly we didn't come here to make friends, though I hope we can become them anyways. I was asked by the people of Tanglim to come here with an… offer."

Astrid tilted her head, confused at the turn of events. Normally people just gave her stuff, but this lady wanted to trade? That didn't make her as much of a gifter as Astrid had hoped. But for the sake of the friendship, she listened.

"Their town is in serious trouble, and only you can help them. Since they knew you spoke Norse, they asked my crew and I to ask you for it." Ljot continued.

"A few days ago, one of the men saw you land, and the village was planning to… ask you to leave soon. But then, a group of ships were spotted attacking another village down the coast." Ljot frowned, "Great, big, mean men called Outcasts. The kind of men who hurt others for no good reason, and aren't as kind as you when they take things."

That got Astrid to frown. She didn't remember a lot of her momma's lessons, but among the top of the list was to not eat smelly clams and to always be respectful.

The Ljot saw this and pressed forwards, "So they want to make a deal," she waved the two men forwards, "In exchange for all this gold, you have to help protect their town. My ship is docked there too, so it'd be a big help for me if you did this."

The chest thudded to the ground and creaked open, revealing more of the shiny coins than Astrid had ever seen before. Her eyes watered at the beauty of it, though she was a little confused.

"Why would I want this?" she asked.

Ljot's calm demeanor broke, and confusion flooded onto it. "I- what? Isn't that why you've been raiding the whole damned coast? For the gold?"

Astrid raised an eyebrow at the curse word, but wasn't shocked by it. She had brothers, after all.

"No silly, they just gave that with the rest of their gifts." Astrid said matter-of-factly, as though explaining to a smaller child than herself.

Ljot, for her part, just started to laugh and wiped her face with her hand. "Incredible! They'll never believe you thought that they were- Ha!"

Astrid looked from the strange woman to the two men, who were awkwardly laughing at the joke they didn't understand.

Once she recovered, Ljot turned serious once more. "Alright then, what exactly _do_ you want?"

"I waaant~" Astrid tapped at her chin.

A bunch of thoughts ran through her head, but none of them seemed really important. She could ask for help getting home, but she could barely even remember anything about it at this point. She'd spent as much of her life in the cave as she had with her momma.

Deep in thought, she turned to Stormfly, who was still standing at attention with unblinking focus. Running her hand along the dragon's neck, Astrid saw a part of her scales that were beginning to look worn and loose. They were lacking the sheen of the rest of her sister's scales, and if she squinted then Astrid could see the skin underneath it looked a lot more agitated too.

Then inspiration struck.

"I want something to help me ride Stormfly! Something that'll be nicer on her back _and_ mine."

The woman looked surprised, but then smiled and bowed. "I'm sure the villagers won't mind that at all. It was a pleasure meeting you, Astrid." She turned towards the dragon, "And you as well, Stormfly." Though that second greeting was definitely more strained and suspicious, obvious even to Astrid.

"Alrighty, Stormfly! Let's go eat some bad guys!" Astrid howled, swinging expertly onto Stormfly's back as she echoed the cry with a loud roar.

* * *

The duo leapt into the air, startling the two men and causing Ljot to stumble onto her rear with a yelp.

"Ma'am, are you alright!?" shouted Eugen, hauling her to her feet.

"Aye, I'm fine you big oaf." Ljot retorted, shaking off his grip and dusting herself off.

"Did she agree, then?" Asked Malte, "Without the gold?"

"She agreed alright, but only asked for a saddle in return. Gal has no idea how much gold she just passed up." Ljot said, eyes watching the dragon race through the air.

"Gods, a little girl being guarded by a dragon of all things! Do they really have them all the way up at Berserker Island?" Eugen asked, rolling his shoulder.

"Indeed, though I've never heard of anyone riding one, much less getting close enough to a live one with getting their heads torn off."

"Hmph, I still think this was a bad idea. The elders should never have sent a little girl to fight our battles, whether she's a dragon rider or a bandit!" Malted said, frowning as he crossed his arms.

"I don't know… I think I've seen that girl before, though how in the world she's survived this long I have no idea. She ran with the bandit gang that murdered my last crew, and I would have died or… or worse if not for her."

The two men regarded her silently as she hiked up her boots and walked into the treeline, wrenching a two-headed axe out from its hiding place behind a bush. Silently, she thanked Odin she hadn't needed to use it.

She never thought she'd owe a life-debt to but a wee babe.

* * *

It was oddly refreshing to fly over Tanglim.

Astrid had seen enough forests and rivers to last a lifetime, and while she'd looked at the outskirts of towns a few times seeing it from overhead was almost breathtaking.

So many people bustled about, scurrying back and forth between houses as even more people ran down to the docks, carrying spears and axes, others hefting tables and furniture out into the streets to form makeshift barricades.

It looked like there were too many fish in a pond, all seamlessly sliding around and over each other as they rushed to prepare for the attack.

Casting her eyes to the ocean, Astrid felt thrill of fear run down her spine. She whimpered at the sight of the massive, unending sea in front of her. Stormfly looked behind her and gave a worried crow, but all Astrid could do was bury her head in the blue scales in front of her.

The people below them began shouting and pointing up at the two of them, and some people ran for cover. Those who didn't and decided to gawk soon followed them as a loud warning bell peal through the air.

Astrid snapped her eyes open at the noise, the distant ringing being somehow familiar to her and set her instincts on edge. She knew what it meant.

Attack.

Tearing her eyes off of the dragons place and back out to the ocean, Astrid tried to stomp on the fear in her gut as she saw six vessels approaching from around the bay. They were dark brown, almost black with shields and spears bristling on all sides.

A tattered sail marked flew on each ship, each with the blood red symbol of a horned helmet painted sloppily on.

Even from this height, she could hear the men braying for blood, hollering as they came screaming around the bend of land and raced towards the town.

Astrid quietly whispered to Stormfly, and the dragon raised high into the air, the sun to their backs.

Soon, the gap was closed and archers from the shore began to open fire on the ships, only to be sent scattering as heavy boulders came flying from the vessels. Houses were leveled as the barrage continued, and it was only at the low growl of Stormfly that Astrid remembered why she was here.

Drawing a small, worn dagger she had gotten years ago from her clothes, Astrid raised the blade in the air and gave a holler.

"Stormfly, FETCH!"

With a screech, the dragon dove, and Astrid held on with gritted teeth as the wind screamed past her ears.

Below, the men never even saw her coming.

With a thunderous blast, a jet of fire crashed onto the deck of the rear ship, sending men screaming into the water as others were incinerated almost instantly. The ship buckled and groaned as fire consumed it almost immediately, eating ravenously at the hull.

The men on the other ships scrambled in confusion, trying to figure out where to divert their attention. One of the other rear ships decided that Stormfly was the bigger target, and the men bellowed as they turned their catapult towards them.

Astrid ducked low was Stormfly bobbed out of the way of the rock that came sailed through the air, nimbly spinning through the few arrows that flew towards them.

A big beast of a man hefted another and stepped towards the catapult, only to drop it as he was transfixed by smattering of spikes. Others cursed and brought up shields as Stormfly rained both fast and slow deaths on the crew.

The other four vessels decided they didn't like their odds as Astrid steered Stormfly out of their range. They rushed towards the coastline, though they no longer fired at village. Instead, all their weapons followed the two as they skirted the edges of their range, baiting eager raiders to loose their attacks early.

Eventually, one of the ships got tired of waiting and tried to take a potshot at Stormfly with their catapult. It was a near miss as the duo took the opening and charge straight down the boulders line of fire, diving at the last second and shooting a lance of fire straight into the bowels of their ship. It wasn't as direct a hit as the first ship, but it had a similar effect as cargo caught fire and quickly spread. With the crew distracted or panicking, Stormfly swooped right over the ship and scooped up one of the men trying to throw water on to the flames.

He screamed as Astrid urged the dragon higher and higher, just below the clouds above the ships.

"No! Oh, oh Thor almighty hear my prayers! Don't do it, ya wee demon tamer, don't-"

His blathering cut off with a scream as Stormfly dropped him neatly, aiming him right over the lead ship.

The man plummeted through the air, only coming to a stop once he became acquainted with the deck of the ship.

This didn't discourage the assault, however. In fact, the men who had fallen off the other boats were now swimming furiously towards the shore, clearly driven to madness in rage.

Three of the original six ships made it to the shore, and almost immediately start disgorging warriors.

The defenders shouted in alarm, and the two forces met with a thunderous crash. The Outcasts clambered over the makeshift barricades, overrunning the smaller force.

"Down girl! Down, down down!" Astrid ordered, and Stormfly complied, crushing an outcast who was threatening an old man.

Astrid leapt off the dragon with a roll, and got out of the way as her big sister charged in to aid the defenders. A jet of fire blasted an outcast off the top of the barricade, and soon the whole thing started to catch fire.

Two men leapt on either side of the dragon, one outcast staying inside the Nadder's blind spot as the other bashed his axe against his shield.

Astrid's eyes narrowed, knowing what kind of effect loud noises had on Stormfly.

Shouting with all the effort of her tiny lungs, Astrid leapt onto the man hiding in her blindspot. The man gave a shout and tried to dislodge her, but the little warrior held on tight and buried her dagger in his back. The man gave a grunt of pain, and then another as she buried it again, this time a little higher.

The man finally got ahold of her, throwing her off of his back and onto the cobbled road. Laying prone on the ground, Astrid screamed as the man picked up a small sword and lunged at her.

Astrid's eyes flickered to Stormfly, but the dragon was busy finishing off the other assailant. For a moment, she realized she was going to die as the man grinned at her with bits of food and blood still stuck in his beard.

And she would have, if not for another man slamming into the villain and pushing him back. The two locked swords, and though the defender was weaker than the raider he swiftly overpowered the injured man and ran his blade through the man's throat.

He fell with a gurgle, and before Astrid could thank her saviour the man dropped to the ground with an arrow in his chest. The shot had come from a slender man with beady eyes atop one of the still stable barricades.

The archer turned his gaze to Astrid, and nocked another arrow before his portion of the wall exploded in shower of sparks and flames. Stormfly stomped over, sporting a few knicks but otherwise unharmed as she sent spike after spike through the flames and into the now-hidden raiders who hid behind them.

The few raiders who remained on their side of the inferno were swiftly overrun and brought down, though each of them fought savagely. With a ragged cheer, the defenders slaughtered the last man, and those that remained fled on the other end tried to run to safety through the shallows or dove into the water to swim to god knows where.

Astrid panted heavily, and felt herself shouting cheers with the people of Tanglim as they lowered their weapons. An elderly man came up to Astrid, the one from before, and spoke in a shakey yet awed tone.

"Thank you." He said in broken Norse. "Tanglim is in debt."

"No debt." Astrid answered back with a grin, before climbing back onto Stormfly,"A job."

She eyed the men running away, and felt herself giggle with anticipation and adrenaline as she patted Stormfly's flank. With a heave, the dragon lifted into the air towards the men as they turned to watch her soar towards them.

And what a job it was.

* * *

 **A/N: Yikes, I'm horrible. But hopefully the chapter wasn't :) stick around friends!**

 **Side Note: Noticed a lot of errors or strange phrases in the first chapters, so i did a bit of minor grammar edits. It honestly changes nothing but I figured I'd say it in the sake of transparency.**


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